Marauding Into The Future
by Loki Mischeif-Maker
Summary: The Marauder's, due to an accident while waiting to be told off in Dumbledore's office, are twenty some years in the future, very confused, and getting into a lot of trouble. An experiment in plot twists. Discontinued
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:** None of the characters or settings are mine, they belong to JK Rowling, No copyright infringement is intended.  
_  
...  
  
The corridor had been empty for some time when four boys appeared in it, all about sixteen and all extremely disoriented— in light of their sudden appearance, it seemed hardly unusual. Three of them steadied themselves on the nearest table— the fourth missed it and ended up on the ground. It took a moment for them to regain their bearings, and in that time span they all looked around, apparently very confused.

"What just happened?" one of them asked the others. He had sandy brown hair and looked distinctly different from the other three— perhaps it was the book in he was holding— it was fairly thick— or the slightly pale and ill look about him. At any rate, he didn't appear to be the one that would take charge of the situation, despite being the one with the prefect's badge.

"From the looks of it, I'd say we were transported into a corridor," one of the other boys announced, raising a black eyebrow fractionally at the sandy-haired boy. He was arguably the most attractive of the boys, the tallest with black hair and a casual grace none of the other three had.

"I realize that, Sirius," the reply came dryly. "I want to know _how_, exactly, it happened."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, running distracted fingers through his hair, but he couldn't seem to find one. He glanced quizzically at the third boy, a skinny hazel-eyed boy in glasses, who appeared not to have bothered combing his dark hair in several years.

He shrugged at Sirius. "I dunno, Padfoot."

The sandy-haired boy shook his head. "I didn't think so. You were a bit too busy trying to come up with a decent excuse for being dragged into the headmaster's office to notice a thing. I never pay any attention in there. It . . . might have had something to do with that thing Peter picked up."

All three of them turned to the last boy, mousy-haired and chubby with a long pointed nose and watery eyes, who immediately began to sulk. "Sure, Remus," he grumbled. "Blame it on me."

"But I _didn't_ blame it on you, Peter," Remus said, overly patient and rolling his eyes. "I said you might have picked up something that caused it."

"That's still blaming it on me," Peter said sulkily.

"He does have something of a point," the boy in glasses told Remus. Aside from his comment, he had remained quiet, watching the exchanges as one might a tennis match.

"You could help me, you know James," Remus pointed out, raising an eyebrow fractionally. He sounded more than a little annoyed at the accusation. "I never did say 'It's Peter's fault.' As a matter of fact, I never have and I probably never will. It is so much more often yours or Sirius's, you know, Prongs."

"Well, you see, Moony," James answered with a slight grin, "agreeing with you would result in rather a long argument, and I don't think any of us want that. Should we get back to Dumbledore's office?" he added, as if asking for a negative reply.

Sirius glanced at his watch, although even without the time, everyone knew what he was going to say. "Well, seeing as we've been courting detention for the rest of our natural lives, and seeing as we all know we've got another one, I hardly see the point. Let's get down to the Great Hall and eat."

Peter expressed whole-hearted agreement. Remus and James exchanged contemplative looks, and then James nodded and it seemed to be decided.

The four of them wandered down the corridor, quickly recognized where they were, and proceeded into the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling's sky looked a little downcast, but the Great Hall was quite cheery and extremely huge. It also seemed . . . different. Not different ion a way one could place a finger on, but certainly not the Great Hall they had long since grown used to. Just . . . odd.

A boy about their age ran past them. "Hullo, Harry— have you seen my toad?" he asked James as he rushed past, not waiting for an answer.

"Have I seen his _what_?" James asked, puzzled.

"Harry?" Sirius repeated incredulously.

They were staring at each other quizzically, wondering if something stranger than pure transportation hadn't happened, when Peter let out a squeak of fright and dodged behind Sirius, who as the biggest of the four made the best shield, or would have if living people hadn't made terrible things to hide behind.

"What is it know, Wormtail?" Sirius demanded.

Peter squeaked again and pointed to the Griffindor table. "James!" he exclaimed, and tried to edge further behind Sirius, who moved irritably. Peter gave him a look of pure horror and continued to look absolutely terrified. "Oh, c'mon," Sirius growled. "You're not that helpless you know, Peter."

"Don't be stupid, Peter, I'm right here," James added.

Remus, however, was looking over where Peter had pointed, and had gone a few shades paler than usual. "Hell, he's right. I know you're here," he added when James's eyebrows soared above his glasses. "But there's no doubting he could pass as your double."

More humoring than anything else, James and Sirius glanced over at the Griffindor house table. James appeared to loose all powers of speech, a great rarity for him. Like Remus, though much of the color left Sirius's face, he managed to hold some composure. "Looks like we found your better half, James," he whispered.

In another situation, it might have been funny. Now, Remus, James, and Sirius glanced at one another as if looking for explanation, all pale, and Peter cowered somewhere in the background, well out of sight.

Finally, James spoke. "I think we can all handle Dumbledore if he'll give us an explanation for this," he announced, shaking his head slightly.

Remus and Sirius nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

None of them knew Dumbledore's password, so the first place they checked was the staff room. Fortunately, Dumbledore was there, along with whom Remus recognized with a start as an older version of Professor Flitwick. _But why older?_ he couldn't help but wonder.

Flitwick left, and the four boys entered the rooms, not without some nerves. Dumbledore, however, seemed immersed own his own thoughts and didn't look up until Peter announced their presence by whimpering. He started at bit looking at them, as though this were the last thing he expected. "What are the four of you doing here?" he asked finally, and he sounded mildly puzzled, which did not bode well.

James, Remus, ans Sirius glanced at one another, none of them with any idea what to say or how to tell him. Peter apparently had no concerns. "James . . . James has a double!" he squeaked, and promptly attempted to conceal his pudgy form behind Sirius again.

"Honestly, it's only Dumbledore," Sirius growled, moving again.

Remus commandeered the situation while Sirius ranted about Peter's apparent inability to look after himself. "Well, he's right, professor. James . . . there did to appear to be two of them in the Great Hall when we went down there."

Dumbledore paused thoughtfully. "What were the four of you doing, before you suddenly appeared someplace you were not?" he asked, startling Remus and apparently James (Sirius hadn't finished lecturing Peter, and so neither were paying much attention).

"Um. . . ." Not wanting to get in more trouble, Remus thought about the answer. "We were in your office waiting for you to come and tell us off for . . . what had you two done this time?" he added to James and Sirius.

"We . . . er . . . let the bludgers out," James admitted, only a little shamefaced. "While the first years were having flying lessons."

"That was today, and I've already managed to repress it that much?" Remus asked mildly. "I still claim nothing to do with it," he added to Dumbledore.

Sirius grinned slightly, the maniac grin that always worried Remus slightly. "Not quite your ally, is it?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Alright," he commented, halting the conversation completely before it got the chance to become an argument. "Now, Remus, can you tell me what you four were doing before you . . . apparently weren't there anymore?"

"The usual stuff: James and Sirius were trying to come up with a decent excuse, I was pertending I wasn't there, and Peter . . . Peter was playing with some of the objects in your office. Did that cause . . . what I think it caused?" he added cautiously.

"That depends. What did you think it caused?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Remus admitted, drumming his fingers along the spine of the book in his hand. "But did it cause whatever happened to us?"

"Probably," Dumbledore admitted, sounding slightly amused and slightly concerned with the situation. "I'm not quite sure; there are too many things in my office for me not to have to look."

"Yes, but what happened?" Sirius demanded irritably, finally done with Peter.

The other four people in the room all shot him mixed looks of about ten different emotions, irritation of which, surprisingly, wasn't one of them. Remus's and James's both had some relief in them, Peter's was mostly shock, and Dumbledore's was highly amused.

"As far as I can tell," the headmaster replied, "you have succeeded in sending yourselves forward in time by twenty some years."

"Oh," all four of them said simultaneously.

The next reactions were predictable. Peter leapt behind Sirius for the third time in a fifteen minute period. After shooting the headmaster a look of skepticism, Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to begin another rant. James's eyebrows soared above his glasses— apparently he was as skeptical as Sirius. Remus, on the other hand, stared thoughtfully into space for a moment. "The kid that looks so much like James . . . would that make him his son?" he asked finally.

Dumbledore shrugged, and this time it didn't look like he was going to answer. "How badly are you going to hound me about this, Remus?" he asked finally.

"Only until you give us an answer, sir."

Dumbledore shook his head, glaring lightly over at all four of them over his half-moon glasses. "Then I suppose I would have to admit a yes, then, wouldn't I?"

With that announcement, and instructions to meet him there after supper, he ushered the four boys out of the staff room.

James paused halfway down the corridor. Sirius and Remus stopped a few feet off to wait for him, and Peter, panting along behind, was allowed to catch up. "I have a son?" he asked finally, when Sirius made an impatient move to continue on without him.

"Well," Remus replied, "to be absolutely right, you _will_ have a son . . . he hasn't been born yet to us . . . at least he's assurance we'll get back . . . ."

James shrugged. "I just sorta wondered who with."

"Let's see," Sirius said in mock puzzlement. "Who could James possibly want to marry— someone he makes a complete fool of himself in front of?

"_Sirius. . ._ ." James appeared to catch Remus concealing his grin with a hand. He glared and ran fingers through hair that was already a mess. "Oh, fine," James said at last, and muttered a name.

"Sorry mate, I didn't catch that," Sirius announced, who wasn't even _trying_ to hide his own grin.

"Evans."

"It only took him . . . what? . . . five minutes longer than it took us?" Sirius observed, still grinning in the way he had to know made the other three want to smack him. This time, however, Remus chuckled and Peter just seemed confused.

"Shut up," James advised. "And let's go eat."


	3. Chapter 3

At the entrance to the great hall, Sirius paused long enough to pull James's hood up. "Honestly, mate," he growled, "think about it. Your kid looks exactly like you. Someone's going to wonder why there are two Potters at the Gryffindor table."  
  
James pulled it back down. "I look like an idiot," he observed.  
  
"He has a point, you know," Remus pointed out, shaking his head. "You both do. The other three of us can probably pass as other people, goodness knows we can't look too much like anyone, but you . . . you look too much like your son, James. But, yes, on the other hand, you do look like a complete idiot."  
  
James glowered. "I'm not going around with the hood of my robes up," he announced irritably. "And no, I don't want sense talked into me."  
  
"Gave up on that by second-year," Remus muttered. "Both you and Padfoot."  
  
Sirius gave him half a look but didn't waste any more time on it and returned to arguing back with James. "You have to! I don't think it'll be the best idea to advertise that the four of us are here. And goodness knows with your son you'll be a beacon yelling 'I'm not supposed to be here!'"  
  
"_Sirius_!"  
  
Sirius, however, was entirely unmoved. "You don't expect me to give in?" he asked. "For once I've got sense on my side, Prongs. . . ."  
  
A heated argument quickly developed between the two of them, centered on the fact that James would be somewhat conspicuous as it was, as the only one in a hood. Remus shook his head and motioned for Peter to continue on without them— again.  
  
"We aren't waiting?" Peter asked.  
  
"They won't be finished before supper's over, and I don't suspect they'll be before morning," Remus pointed out. "They never are."  
  
Peter nodded, all too eager to get down to the Gryffindor table and eat, be he gave James and Sirius apprehensive looks, as if expecting them to jump on them both for leaving without them. Remus wondered, as he did from time to time, how on earth Peter got into Gryffindor.  
  
As they wandered off, however, James apparently decided that there was no way for him to win. With a cry of "_Oh, alright_!" he yanked his hood back up and followed. Sirius, smirking in an extremely self-satisfied way, did the same.  
  
Remus, in the lead for the first time in several years, tried to position them as far away from James's son as he could. Unfortunately, the table was more or less full, and anyway, James and Sirius wouldn't have stood for it. It was Sirius, not Remus, who finally sat down, about three feet away from the boy that looked so much like his father.  
  
"The eyes," James whispered spontaneously, "he's got Evan's eyes."  
  
Sirius rolled his own eyes and shoved the pumpkin juice into James's chest. "You would notice something like that," he grumbled. "At least there may be a way to tell you apart, then."  
  
"Why did I let them do this?" Remus asked absently.  
  
"Because you don't want to admit you're curious, too?" Sirius suggested, handing him the pumpkin juice, or at least what of it hadn't been spilled down the front of James's robes.  
  
Remus sighed and shook his head. "But enough not to risk getting into more trouble." Sirius irritably left it at that, and the whole idea of being twenty-some years in the future was laid to rest for about ten minutes. Then, it wasn't James or Sirius who brought it back to their attention, but the gangly redheaded boy sitting next to James's son. "Who d'you reckon they are, Harry?"  
  
Harry turned looked in the same direction his friend was and started. "It _can't_ be," he answered.  
  
"What can't be?" the girl beside him asked. She had busy brown hair and, like Remus, the air of someone who spent a lot of time in the library.  
  
Harry shook his head. "Last year, in Snape's pensive, I saw my dad and the others. I told you about that, right? Well, I might think that now I'm seeing them again."  
  
"But that's impossible," she answered, looking a little puzzled. "They were in the past, and I don't think there's a way to send people into the future, is there? And, anyway, James and Sirius are—"  
  
"I know that, Hermione," Harry hissed.  
  
"Maybe we should just ask them," the redheaded boy suggested, shrugging.  
  
"You know, Ron," Hermione said. "That may be the first sensible thing you've said all year." She turned to Sirius, who, after all, was closest, and watching the conversation with a little bit of interest. "Hello," she announced. "I'm Hermione Granger. Those are Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. I don't believe we've ever met before."  
  
Remus sighed watching it. The problem with it being those two, of course, was that Sirius was absolutely addicted to girls, though it usually didn't last past the first date (and James thought the things Lily yelled at _him_ were bad. . . .). Sirius, however, appeared to keep at least a little composure for once. "I'm Sirius Black," he answered, and started pointing to each of the other Marauders in turn. "That's Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and James . . . Smith," he added at the last second, at the cost of an elbow in the ribs.  
  
Hermione, Ron, and Harry all exchanged significant looks. Sirius got the unsettling feeling that they had already known who they were. "Your sure it's not Potter?" Ron asked finally.  
  
"Oh, you have no tact," Hermione grumbled. She turned back to Sirius. "Harry did think he'd recognized you. But how did you get here?"  
  
"We don't know," Sirius admitted. "Dumbledore said he'd have to check things out."  
  
"That doesn't bode well," Hermione muttered under her breath. "Do you have any idea how long you'll be here, then?" she added.  
  
"A couple of days?" Sirius guessed hopefully.  
  
"I doubt it," Remus interjected. "With the amount of clutter in his office, I doubt he really remembers which of those things he had with him twenty- some years ago."  
  
"Voice of reason," James muttered irritably under his breath. Ron gave him a sympathetic look, which turned into a glare directed in Hermione's general vicinity.  
  
Peter squeaked and attempted to jump behind Sirius again— unfortunately the table, Remus, and James were all in his way, and he only managed to nearly start a domino effect.  
  
"What is it now?" James demanded.  
  
"_Snape_!" Peter squeaked.  
  
"Oh, yes," said Sirius irritably. "I'm sure Snivellus was eavesdropping at the door and whatever sent us forward in time got to him to. Stop being so paranoid, Peter."  
  
Ron, Harry, and Hermione all exchanged significant looks again, but this time even Ron kept his mouth shut tight. 


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow, all of them managed to get through the rest of the meal without further references to the number of things that might have surprised the marauders about future events— even the subject of Snape was miraculously avoided. The seven of them— somehow the knowledge of who the others were had made them a group— or at least turned Harry, Ron, and Hermione into the three the Marauders would go to when there was something about the future they didn't understand at all— headed out into the hall.  
  
"Well, what are you four doing?" Hermione asked them.  
  
"Dumbledore said to meet him here," Remus answered, shaking his head. "I dunno what he's got in mind for us to end up doing, though."  
  
They nodded, all waiting for Dumbledore. Peter, still not used to the other three, was by the wall, placing the other three Marauders firmly between him and them. Sirius seemed half-tempted to begin yet another rant. Remus shook his head at them both— neither relaxed.  
  
James had pulled the snitch out of his pocket. He'd taken it along with the bludgers, but hadn't mentioned it at first because after a few minutes it annoyed Sirius to no end. He started playing with it, and Ron and Peter both watched interestedly. Sirius noticed and rolled his eyes. Harry, remembering what had happened in Snape's pensive, wasn't sure what to think. Neither Hermione nor Remus noticed it.  
  
"Hello," Dumbledore's voice announced. "I see you three have noticed. Not that I can say I expected otherwise from you."  
  
All seven of them whirled around, James shoving the snitch back in his pocket. Dumbledore seemed to have come to the conclusion that he could work everything out eventually, and he was fairly amused with the entire situation. "You three haven't told them much?" he added.  
  
"No," Hermione answered, throwing Harry and Ron looks of absolute _murder_.  
  
"That's good." The headmaster turned back to the Marauders. "I'm afraid it might take me a few weeks to figure everything out and get you back where you belong. Until then, I'd suggest you just follow the Gryffindor schedule as you would if you were in your own time—"  
  
"We're twenty years in the future and we _still_ have homework?" Sirius muttered. Remus shushed him.  
  
"—but I'm not so sure about other arrangements," Dumbledore continued, as if he hadn't heard. "Well, goodness knows the seven of you know this school fairly well, so if you have anything in mind. . . ?"  
  
Sirius, James and Remus exchanged glances. "What about the Gryffindor tower?"  
  
"I'm afraid your usual room is currently occupied," Dumbledore reminded them. "We'll have to think of something else."  
  
"The Room of Requirement?" Hermione suggested softly. "It won't be used for anything else . . . will it? And it's fairly a simple solution."  
  
The Marauders all exchanged looks. This was one of the few places they'd never heard of before. "Where's that?"  
  
"Well, it's certainly not any place where you're likely to be disturbed," Dumbledore admitted. "And the easiest place to arrange for."  
  
"And it makes sense," Harry added.  
  
"Goodness knows," Dumbledore agreed. He turned and started down the hall, shaking his head. "I assume you three can help them find it well enough?"  
  
"I think he knows we'd like to get a better idea about each other," Hermione commented to the boys. "But we can help you find it. C'mon."  
  
She led them upstairs to the seventh floor, past the tapestry of Barnabas the Blarney. She seemed to lead them in a circle, because they passed it again a few minutes later. "Where are we going?" Sirius demanded as she appeared to lead them the exact same way again.  
  
Hermione didn't answer, nor did Harry and Ron. They just kept going. James and Sirius kept exchanging increasingly irate looks. Peter had fallen behind and was jogging to catch up, and apparently not getting very far along it at all. Remus, who was well aware that if they hadn't found it, it was one of the better kept secrets of the school, was looking interestedly around.  
  
Finally, their three guides paused at a door across from the tapestry. "That door's not usually there!" James exclaimed, staring at it.  
  
"No. It only appears when you need it," Hermione explained.  
  
"Then how did you find it in the first place?" Sirius wanted to know. "Or at least figure it out? You can't be on this floor too often."  
  
Harry shrugged. "A house-elf named Dobby told me about it," he explained.  
  
James nodded, opening the door. He started, as it seemed he was looking in on a dormitory instead of an empty classroom as he had expected. "_Huh_?"  
  
"It fits itself to the need," Hermione explained easily. "In your case, it would be a dormitory."  
  
James nodded. "This is incredible," he muttered. "How did we never figure this one out?"  
  
"Because we spent more time mapping every inch of the Forbidden Forest," Remus informed him sensibly, glancing around. "For obvious reasons. Hermione, how would we get here without you doing the work for us?"  
  
While Hermione explained it to Remus, James pulled out the snitch again and started playing with it. "Which snitch is that?" Ron asked him interestedly.  
  
"The one from twenty-some years ago," James admitted, not glancing at him so the snitch didn't start getting away from him. He obviously wasn't bored, as usual when he did that, so much as he was trying to find something more normal for him to do.  
  
"Probably another 'sign we'll eventually get back' if you ask Remus about it," Sirius said with a grin. "Two Hogwarts snitches. Also assurance you won't loose it."  
  
"Shut up," James suggested again.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes and seized it, apparently trying to get him to stop messing around with it. "One day, we'll look back on this and laugh. Today I'm only more irritable than usual."  
  
"That's _possible_?" Peter muttered.  
  
"Well, not if your some people," Sirius admitted with a yawn. "Lucky your not one of them. Tough to imagine that today's lasted twenty years, isn't it?"  
  
_**Author's note:** I'm glad everyone's been enjoying the story, but I must say I would love constructive criticism on any part of this story right now. Also, I must ask you not to specifically request I review you in a review. This is in some ways a pet peeve of mine, and while I'll probably get back to someone who's already done this eventually, I can't make this promise for someone who just does it now. "plz review me" really does annoy me, because a courteous author returns this favor anyway. Thanks for tolerating my rant. Cheers! _


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius was obviously the one that hadn't slept well when he sat down for breakfast the next morning. It was fairly early— as a matter of fact most of the castle was still asleep. Remus was the only other one there, and obviously much more interested in the book in front of him than breakfast.  
  
"Where's James?" Sirius asked, joining him but equally uninterested in food.  
  
"Harry was up, too. I think they're out on the grounds. I chose not to follow them— exactly as you wouldn't have done, you know," Remus answered. He glanced over at Sirius as if daring him to argue.  
  
Sirius didn't. "Well, if it had been your kid, what would you have done?"  
  
"I wouldn't want one of my best friends tailing me, for one thing," Remus said pointedly. "And if it was yours I'd've been more worried than I am since it's James's."  
  
Sirius laughed. "You know me too well, Moony," he admitted. "Actually I wasn't going to follow him. We both know he'll fill us in about anything that might be happening that Harry lets slip. And besides, madness is apparently not a genetically inherited trait. Harry seems sane enough, at least."  
  
"You're the maniac, not James," Remus argued. "That's not proof. Not in my mind, at least. And goodness knows there's madness in your family."  
  
He'd struck a sore point. Sirius sat, drumming his fingers on the table and staring straight ahead for the next five minutes, and it was only tentatively that Remus tried to restart a conversation. "You were a dog last night, weren't you?" he asked.  
  
"Don't be stupid, Remus, when was the last time I was a dog?"  
  
"Last night. Or last full moon if I'm wrong, which I doubt. If you have another explanation to why I could hear you whimpering, however, I'll back down."  
  
"I wasn't whimpering!"  
  
"Sirius," Remus said, shaking his head, "you were apparently asleep. When I told you to shut up and go to sleep you didn't answer me. And nothing happened when I threw a shoe at you like you were a cat either."  
  
"And that's proof because. . . ?"  
  
"You only whimper under two conditions— one of them is that you've just stopped me from giving you the slip around midnight and I scratched you as a reply. The other is you're a dog and you're asleep. Since I see no reason for something to have drawn your blood last night, I assumed you were talking in your sleep."  
  
"Talking?" Sirius demanded. He didn't look very happy at this particular accusation. "Dogs don't talk, not even Animangi, and you know that."  
  
"Yes," Remus admitted. "You do talk in your sleep sometimes. It's fairly amusing when you're human. Nonsense mostly," he added when Sirius shoved him irritably, "never anything you haven't told us. I might have actually told you about it then."  
  
Sirius didn't look assured by this news. "Fine. Maybe I was a dog last night. What's it to you?" he demanded, trying to make it sound natural.  
  
"Nothing," Remus admitted. "Why?"  
  
"I have a certain attachment to canines," Sirius said loftily. "Besides, it keeps cats from breaking in, and you know I won't sleep with a cat in the room."  
  
"Indeed I think becoming an Animangus just addled that part of your brain further," Remus admitted, flipping pages in his book.  
  
Sirius shook his head. "At least I ended up the right animal." Absently he pulled a piece of parchment out of his robes. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he muttered at it, and it started to flower into a map. Finally, when the Marauders' spiky lettering lined the top, he started examining it.  
  
"Anything interesting?" Remus asked him absently.  
  
"Not that I can see," Sirius admitted. "No . . . wait . . . _Snivellus_?"  
  
Remus paused a moment, likewise disbelieving. "So Peter was right . . . Snape is here. You ought to give him a chance, you know."  
  
"_Snivellus_?" Sirius asked incredulously. "You okay, Moony?"  
  
"_Peter_."  
  
"Oh. . . ." Sirius thought about that answer. "C'mon, Remus, I do give the kid a chance. He's just so given to false alarms that it's a real pain sometimes."  
  
Remus rolled his eyes but didn't answer, choosing instead to bury himself in his book. Sirius, still muttering, was examining the map, but it was obviously for lack of anything better to do. James and Harry found them ignoring each other. "And what's it this time?" James demanded.  
  
"I'm not sure," Remus admitted cheerfully. "I think it might be shock. We're always arguing, anyway, aren't we?" he added absently.  
  
"Not when it matters," James muttered under his breath, but he nodded. He turned absently to Sirius, nodding to the map. "Anything I ought to know about?"  
  
"One name I shouldn't recognize," Sirius answered irritably.  
  
"Which one's that?" James asked boredly.  
  
Sirius scowled. "Snivellus's."  
  
"You're kidding me! Right, Padfoot?" James leaned over the map, eventually finding Snape's name in the dungeons. His hazel eyes widened with disbelief behind his glasses. "But what's he doing at Hogwarts? Of all the people to find. . . ."  
  
"He's teaching," Harry said quietly. He didn't look at all happy about it.  
  
"What's Dumbledore doing, trusting that git?" Sirius demanded, handing the map to James. "He'd make an _awful_ teacher, anyway."  
  
Harry grinned. Remus shrugged. "Twenty years can change a lot about a person, Padfoot. Especially since the Snape we have for comparison is sixteen."  
  
"Tiger's _don't _change their stripes," Sirius muttered darkly, but he left it at that.  
  
**Author's Note:** _Thanks to all my truly awesome reviewers._ _Constructive crticism is, as always, appreciated!_


	6. Chapter 6

After other people started coming down for breakfast things settled down and felt a little more normal for all of them. Ron and Hermione came down and Harry, who was being gradually slightly unnerved by the Marauders, joined them in more normal conversation— for him at least.  
  
Peter also came down. James and Remus greeted him absently, though Sirius's idea of "giving the kid a chance" this morning seemed to be to ignore him. Rather put out by his friend's reactions, Peter turned instead to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, apparently deciding to brave the waters of the unusual for a conversation that consisted of more then "Oh, G'morning, Peter."  
  
"Good morning," he greeted them.  
  
Ron returned it absently. Hermione started, turned around, and nearly hit his long nose with the Arithmancy book in her hands. "Oh, hello . . . uh . . . Peter," she said, still sounding rather startled. Peter supposed that, if she'd been reading, he ought to count himself lucky she'd answered, as Remus was as likely as not to not hear him.  
  
Harry did ignore him, pretending to be deep in a conversation with Ron. It was only when Hermione nudged him with her elbow and hissed something about being polite that he answered at all. "Hullo," he muttered. It sounded rather stiff.  
  
Hermione glared at him, but apparently gave up in frustration. Peter, looking rather forlorn, wandered off.  
  
Hermione bent down, glaring at both Harry and Ron and exclaiming in hushed tones, "And why couldn't the two of you have been more polite?"  
  
"Said good morning, didn't I?" Ron asked, looking over at Peter and remembering his rat.  
  
"He betrayed my parents, what do you expect?" Harry snapped, glancing over at the four of them, Peter of whom had managed to get Remus to talk to him.  
  
"Oh, Harry," Hermione groaned, "but it's another five or so years before he does. _He_ has no idea what he's going to do then, and none of them have any idea why you're being so cold to him."  
  
"Maybe we should tell them," Harry suggested through clenched teeth.  
  
"Oh, sure, that's a good idea," Hermione said sarcastically. "We'd have to tell them James was dead then, and they'd start asking questions about everything else, and then we'd have to tell them Sirius was dead, and Peter was a Death Eater, and at least we don't know everything about Remus Lupin's future!" She said this all very fast, as a matter of fact, Ron asked her how a person could talk so fast and not turn blue.  
  
Hermione loftily ignored him.  
  
Harry and Ron returned to having a conversation about Quidditch. James looked interestedly over when he heard Harry and Ron discussing their chances against the other house teams this year. "So who's on the team?" the older Potter asked his son.  
  
"Harry's the seeker," Ron answered, "I keep. Most of the rest of the team graduated last year." He shrugged. "So who d'you think we _need_, Harry?"  
  
This was a conversation, fortunately, that could occupy almost all of the boys for the remainder of breakfast, and no comment was made as to how stiff Harry was acting toward Peter, not even after Hermione managed to get all of their attentions to announce that it was time to get to transfiguration before_ all_ of them were late, and therefore the Marauders were noticed.  
  
Not that it did much good. While they got there with about five minutes to spare, Sirius, James, Ron, and Harry were still talking, though the conversation had changed to one of those things Hermione chose to ignore. Unfortunately it was also one of those things that could be discussed for a very long time, because Sirius was still talking when Professor McGonagall entered the room.  
  
She tapped her wand on her desk for order. Sirius ignored it. She cleared her throat loudly. Unfortunately, Sirius had apparently left the zone in which he would listen to her.  
  
Finally, Professor McGonagall wandered over to the desk at which the four of them were sitting at, tapped her wand and that, and hissed, "That will be _enough_, Mr. Black."  
  
At the sound of a familiar voice— and indeed his name— Sirius turned around to stare at McGonagall, who stared back in utmost surprise. "Still here, Professor?" Sirius asked innocently, grinning like a maniac, which most of the spectators decided he must be.  
  
Professor McGonagall stopped staring and returned her air of dignity. "Yes, I am Mr. Balck."  
  
After a few moments of that, both of them seemed to realize what was going on. "Professor Dumbledore knows you're here, right, Black?" McGonagall asked, looking around. "And Mr. Potter, and Lupin, and Pettigrew? All four of you?"  
  
"Yeah, he knows," Sirius answered with a shrug. "He basically told us to keep our heads down."  
  
"Well, I should hope so," McGonagall told him. "And may I add that keeping your head down does not involve talking at the top of your voice in my class?"  
  
Sirius, apparently, was undaunted by her accusation, however. He merely shrugged.  
  
Professor McGonagall gave up in disgust, as he had many times before when trying to lecture this particular teenager. She instead marched up to the front of the class, greeted them briskly as a whole, and began to teach.  
  
**Author's Note:** _Gah, another short chapter. They're about to get longer, so there's the warning to anyone with a short attention span (not too much, but definitely over a thousand words per chapter. . . . Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, criticism appreciated an' all that. Cheers! --- Loki Mischeif-Maker_


	7. Chapter 7

They got a few odd stares in Transfiguration, but no problems surfaced until after class. They lingered, in spite of McGonagall's glare, so as not to cause much confusion in the halls. "What've you got next?" Remus asked.

Ron pulled his schedule out of his bag. "Divination," he answered gloomily. "Back with Trelawney, old fraud."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I _told_ you to drop it and take something useful, didn't I? But _of course_ you didn't listen to me . . . ."

Remus grinned at the look of long-suffering on her face— he felt the exact same way all too often— and shook his head. "I don't think any of us are actually taking Divination," he muttered it. "Not after Sirius failed it two years in a row."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at Sirius, who was deep in a conversation with Harry and James, and didn't appear to be paying attention. Or at least not until she caught his eye and grinned sheepishly at her.

"I've got Arithmancy instead," Hermione announced.

"Three of us are taking that," Remus answered, looking over at Sirius and James. "I guess we're going with you, then."

"Actually," Sirius announced, "I think I'll go with Harry and Ron."

"I thought you said you never wanted to see a crystal ball ever again," James commented dryly. "Didn't you break one once?"

Sirius glared. "Don't remind me. But anyway, I really do _not_ want to sit through Arithmancy this morning, and rather than 'attract attention' I think I'll just make fun of Divination. The more we split up the less likely they are to notice us, anyway."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Very well, Sirius, _be_ a maniac. Not that you need any encouragement."

The grin got wide enough it would've scared someone that didn't know him.

"What about Peter?" Remus added absently, glancing over at the only Marauder who hadn't joined in in the conversation.

"I . . . apparently don't have a class," Peter answered.

"Lucky you," muttered Sirius, glancing over at Remus and Hermione knowing neither would let him skip a lesson. Not with the amount of trouble they were already in.

"Well, no, actually," Hermione answered. "Not if you're taking Muggle Studies. Are you?"

Peter didn't look happy about nodding.

"It's on the second floor, in case it's changed," Hermione announced briskly. "Now, all seven of us are going to be late!"

"You're sure its Trelawney and not Firenze?" Harry asked Ron anxiously as they headed to the North Tower— he didn't want his own death predicted yet again. "They're both teaching this class, right?" He glanced in the direction of a staircase that lead to the first floor, where Firenze's classroom was.

Ron pointed to the schedule. "'Fraid so. 'Divination, North Tower.' Firenze's room is at the _end_ of the week." He groaned. "Hermione was right, you know. We _should_ have dropped this class." He turned to Sirius. "Have _you_ ever seen anything in a crystal ball?"

"If I had, would I have failed it twice?" Sirius asked, shrugging.

"Well, if it had been Trelawney teaching twenty years ago and you'd seen something cheerful," Ron muttered darkly under his breath.

The three of them managed to get to the North Tower just as they were about to be late, but everybody was too busy talking to each other to notice. Ron and Harry sat down in their usual corner, trying not to let the heady fumes in the room get to their heads. "She expects you to be able to think in all this," Sirius asked absently, glancing around the room.

Professor Trelawney, as usual, made as mystical an entrance as possible. "Good morning. I am pleased to see that I was not mistaken in the vision that you would all return safely. But, alas, there is someone here who should not be."

Everyone but Ron, Harry, and Sirius looked around, but eventually they all had spotted Sirius. "What's the bet she spotted you?" Ron muttered to him under his breath.

"Ooh, Harry," Lavender Brown called out, "who's you're friend?"

Sirius glanced at Lavender and opened his mouth to answer. Harry interrupted with a hiss only the three of them could hear. "Don't say Black!"

Sirius blinked. "Why not?"

"I promised Hermione I wouldn't explain it," Harry muttered. "Because it hasn't happened for you yet. But you can't say you're name's Sirius Black!"

"Then what the hell am I supposed to say?" Sirius asked mildly. He seemed to accept the fact the Harry was going to keep his promise to Hermione.

"I dunno. Make up another last name or something," Harry answered. "Least you look a bit different as an adult. . . ."

"Sirius Carpenter," Sirius told Lavender quickly, as she was beginning to look a little annoyed at his lack of an answer. "I'm visiting for a few weeks."

This seemed to satisfy Lavender. "And those other three . . . ?"

"Yeah, James and Remus and Peter, too," Sirius answered with a shrug. "Why?"

"I guess I just wondered," Lavender answered, smiling.

"Well, now that an explanation had been reached," Trelawney announced, "may we all turn back to the lesson. Today, I want to review the crystal ball, as we didn't gaze all of last year. Perhaps one of you will see something useful."

"Oh, the irony," Sirius mumbled, glancing at it distastefully.

"You broke one once?" Ron asked. Harry automatically found himself recalling how many times Hermione had advised him to try and get some tact.

"Oh, yeah . . . Peter took it too our third year. Never try to reenact a Quidditch match with a crystal ball, especially seeing as I can't aim and Peter can't catch. . . ."

"You tried to reenact a Quidditch match with Peter Pettigrew?" Ron asked, laughing. Obviously, he was remembering Scabbers at his laziest.

"Do you see something amusing in the future, Mr. Weasley?" Trelawney asked him suddenly.

"Yeah— a rat playing Quidditch," Ron said sarcastically.

Trelawney didn't look particularly amused. She swept over to their table and gazed into the orb. "I see something not quite so amusing," she answered. "A dark shape. . . ."

". . . with four legs, a tail, and burning yellow eyes, heading towards me?" Harry guessed, arching a skeptical eyebrow at the Divination teacher. Sirius looked halfway affronted, seeing as Harry not only described a Grim, but him in the right form.

"You may laugh at your doom if you wish, my dear boy," Trelawney told Harry sniffily, wandering off.

Sirius looked curiously from Trelawney, who had joined Lavender and Parvati Patil, to Harry. "She does that a lot," Harry explained. "But obviously I haven't died yet, have I?"

The conversation quickly turned back to things crystal balls should not be used for.

**Author's Note:** _Much thanks to CountessMel for catching all those little pitfalls one gets so tempted to fall into when writing time travel fics. Next chapter, however, I AM going to get Snape involved, as he does play a part in the planned plotline, but I wanted things halfway grounded in something resembling reality first. . . . Champaign Supernova in the Sky, am I to assume that great minds think alike? Both Lupin's do play a part in this plotline. . . . Cheers! — Loki Mischief-Maker_


	8. Chapter 8

They met Hermione, Remus, and James down in the dungeons afterwards. Hermione, of course, had a book out and was flipping through it. While James and Remus were bickering over something. Hermione looked up when they approached. "Oh, hullo, you two," she announced. "Everyone was very . . . erm . . . interested in James. I told them he's a visiting relative of yours, Harry. I hope you don't mind."

"Why would I?" Harry asked, glancing over at his father. "In some ways he is."

"Well, he's hardly your cousin, but it was the best I could think of," Hermione admitted. "So how was Divination?"

Ron scowled at her, looking quite disgusted at her question. "Well, let's just say if Harry was on his deathbed, then Trelawney'd have it right. She says he's gonna die. You'd think she'd be sick of it by now, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," Sirius announced with a grin. "He's gonna trip on one of those carpets she's got, fall down her ladder, and break his neck."

"Well, that's a bit more plausible than usual," Hermione said doubtfully.

"Sirius made that up," Harry answered, shaking his head. "He also announced that a rat would make the Irish Quidditch team this year, so I don't think Trelawney's very impressed with us."

"Ron put that idea in my head!" Sirius announced defensively. "A prediction in Peter's honor. Where_ is_ Wormtail, anyway?"

"No idea," Remus announced, breaking off his argument with James to join in the conversation. "He was in Muggle Studies, who's surprised he lingered there?"

No one was, especially since Peter wandered down a few moments later. "You could tell me where we were going to be next," he whined. "I had to ask the professor. Sounded like a right idiot, I expect."

"As if that's anything unusual," Sirius announced.

"What did you tell the students?" Hermione demanded. "I mean, you've got to have told them something, once they noticed you. . . ."

"They didn't," Peter muttered. He sounded rather hurt.

"Well, yeah, there's only one of you, and you didn't have a bat-eyed professor trying to invent something dastardly about your appearance," Ron announced bitterly.

"I _told_ you to drop the class," Hermione announced longsufferingly. "But you two _never_ listen."

"A right James and Sirius," Remus announced with a grin. "He's his father's son, all right." He glanced over at James, who'd raised an eyebrow. "Yes, James, that was an insult," Remus supplied.

James rolled his eyes but didn't retaliate. "I'd think it was complementing Harry and Ron, Moony."

"You would."

Before long, James and Remus were embroiled in their argument again. This was so far from unusual that both Peter and Sirius acted as if nothing was happening. Hermione turned back to her book, and Ron and Harry rolled their eyes at each other. After a few minutes, however, Hermione looked up. "You four . . . might want to skip this class," she announced softly.

Sirius and James started and glanced at each other. They could both tell by now that a suggestion like this from Hermione would be _very_ rare. Remus arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

Hermione sighed. "Snape teaches potions."

"Why would we want to miss _this_?" Sirius demanded, flashing teeth in his maniac grin. "I mean, c'mon, why should we be the ones avoiding _Snivellus_? It should be the other way around, right?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged significant glances. "He's an adult, now," Hermione whispered finally. "And a teacher."

"What difference does that make to us?" James asked.

The three of them sighed. "Well, he'd love an excuse to give us detention, so we'd better get going," Harry muttered darkly. The other six of them nodded and followed him into the classroom.

Draco Malfoy grinned wickedly at Harry when they entered. "So who're your friends, Potter?" he demanded. "Or has Dumbledore still got you a guard? And in school now?"

Harry's breath came out a hiss; he barely heard Hermione's "Ignore him."

"A guard?" James asked.

No one answered him. With one hand around Harry's elbow, Hermione guided all six of them to another few desks. A few moments later, any brewing fight was prevented by Snape's entry into his classroom. "For those of you that came back," he announced. "I have particular challenges." He flicked his wand at the blackboard, and a difficult looking potion appeared on the blackboard. "I'll see if you've done anything over the summer," he announced.

"Why'd we continue?" Ron demanded to no one on particular.

"Because you want to be aurors," Hermione announced, snappishly. "And look, you should be able to handle it. You passed your OWLs, didn't you?"

Ron and Harry looked at her like she was nuts. "But he must've planned something awful," Ron protested. "I mean, he'll try to get rid of most of the rest of us by seventh year, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and started taking ingredients out. "You two should be able to handle it," she announced. "Or you shouldn't've come back. I'm _not_ going to help."

"Did we ask for it?" Ron demanded. He looked over at Sirius and Remus. "Did we ask for help?"

Sirius looked at him, cocked his head, and didn't answer. Remus grinned. "Not exactly. But you could tell you were hinting at it. . . ." his voice trailed off.

Ron looked completely dumbfounded, but he started to copy Hermione in taking things out. Peter served the purpose of botching the entire thing worse than Neville would have. He didn't, at least, melt his cauldron, so Snape just stared at the billowing grey smoke as if he'd seen nothing more disgusting in his life. Hermione, as usual, managed to produce precisely what Snape had asked for, and the other three Marauders pretty close. Harry's and Ron's were somewhere in between; probably not functional but not the worst in what of the class was supposed to be there. Snape could hardly look less pleased about the inability to give them "D"s.

When he let out, all seven of them made a rush for the door. Sirius and James, on the other hand, heard his cold voice announce, "Potter, Black, I want a word."

James paused, and Sirius shoved him in the back. "For all we know he's talking about Harry."

"And you?"

"Fifteen seconds ago I decided I answer only to Padfoot," Sirius announced loftily. "Now get going! I really don't want to put up with him."

Snape had contrived, however, to be in their way. "I don't want to deal with either of your silly little games," he announced.

"What? We don't play games," Sirius replied. "Haven't changed much in twenty years, have you?"

"You know what I mean," Snape pointed out. "And you know it quite well. I don't want to have to put up with it. I am, after all, an adult."

"That changes things . . . how?" James asked.

"I didn't think you two _liked_ detentions, but then again, I may be wrong," Snape growled. He let them leave, however.

**Author's Note:** _Thank you everybody for the reviews! This wasn't quite as plot-orientated as I'd intended, because it turned out there were STILL loose ends, and some semblance to the Snape/Marauder relationship had to be established. Gah. I promise there's a plot, and I will get to it soon. Cheers! — Loki_


	9. Chaoter 9

Lunch was, Aside from Charms, the best place to hold a private conversation in an undertone. There was simply too much noise and commotion for the person next to the speaker to overhear. Which made a three-way conversation rather difficult.

"So what did he want?" Remus hissed at both James and Sirius when they finally appeared.

"Just told us he didn't want to play games," Sirius answered with a scowl, sliding onto the bench.

Remus snorted and rolled his eyes. "His memory has really dimmed in twenty years if he expects _that_ order to be obeyed," he murmured.

"What?" James asked. "Oh! I don't really think he did . . . I mean, he's not quite _that_ stupid. . . . Is he?"

"Only stupid enough to decide to pay a werewolf an unexpected visit the night of the full moon," Sirius spat as Remus hushed him. "Even _I_ thought he had enough sense to put it together that it wasn't exactly _safe_ to try that one out."

"Just be lucky James has more sense," Remus announced. "And what are the two of you planning?"

A somewhat nastier version of Sirius's maniac grin crossed his face, causing Remus to groan and bury his face in a hand. "Oh," Padfoot answered. "Nothing life threatening."

"Unfortunately," James added. "We're not going to try that twice. Besides, it's a week from the full moon, isn't it, Moony?"

"That's very specific," Remus told them dryly. "_What have you two got planned?_"

"You'll see," Sirius announced, and changed the subject.

Remus let their vague announcements be throughout the afternoon, though it was only uneasily he did so. He had no pity or sympathy for Severus Snape, but he was worried about the other two. James and Sirius had a knack for attracting attention even in the rare instances when it _wasn't_ their actual objective. And weren't all four of them supposed to be keeping their heads down at the moment?

It was slightly unfair to punish Snape for something he hadn't actually done yet, but waiting until they got back on familiar ground for something to happen was preferable to doing it now and possibly revealing who they actually were. A couple of vague hints here and there had made it clear that "James Potter" would probably mean more to many people than just "Harry's dad."

He didn't bring it up, though, until all four of the Marauders were circling the seventh floor. "What are the two of you planning to do?" he demanded to know.

"About?" James asked.

"Snape. Both of you ought to have realized by now that he's either daring you to do something incredibly stupid— which sounds a lot like him— or we're going to blow the very, _very_ thin cover we have. All it'll take is knowledge of the school."

"Or Snape?"

"_Sirius!_ All I'm trying to point out is that being careful for once might not be such a bad idea."

"Point. No one else'll see us," Sirius promised.

"You think Snape won't raise a ruckus?" Remus snapped.

"Not if he had any sense," James announced with certaintly.

Sirius paused and looked from James to Remus contemplatively. "Remus has a point, there. He doesn't have any sense at all. Damn."

"Well, he had to have developed _some_ in order to become a teacher," Remus admitted softly. "But that's no guarantee he'll be able to handle you. Hell, sometimes I wonder how _I_ handle you!"

"Moony, I assure you we won't do anything to hurt him," Sirius announced.

Remus let forth with a premature sigh of relief.

"Much," James amended.

Remus uneasily considered his options. Snape wouldn't hesitate to land the four of them in unimaginably deep trouble. He doubted James and Sirius would really hesitate to go too far. But there was no doubt in his mind that the time at which he could talk his friends out of it had passed, and quite some time ago. He shouldn't have let it be.

"What're the three of you doing?" Peter called from halfway down the hall. The three of them turned to see him standing by the door of the Room of Requirement. They'd been so embroiled in their argument they's missed it entirely.

"Lovely time for a walk, eh, Wormtail?" Sirius called back, grinning his more ordinary maniac grin.

Peter looked rather confused, lifting an eyebrow at Sirius for a moment. "But isn't it . . . kinda dark outside?"

"He's joking!" James called back, rolling his eyes and wandering back down the hall. Sirius and Remus followed him, both slightly exasperated by the cluelessness of their chubby friend.

Remus grabbed Peter after James and Sirius had gone in, however. "Those to are up to something," he announced.

"When are they not?" Peter grumbled.

"No, I mean up to something big! Something to do with Snape, and he's not quite the pushover he was twenty years ago, if you get my drift," Remus growled. "They're going to get us in so much trouble."

"Oh."

"Is that really all you can say, Wormtail?"

Peter shrugged hopelessly, glancing back at the Room of Requirement. "Well, what do you expect _me_ to do about it?"

"Which one do you want to keep track of?" Remus demanded.

Peter appeared to weigh his options for a minute or two. Both were nightmares to track, but one was a more predictable nightmare than the other. "I've got James," he said finally.

"Fine, I'll handle Sirius," Remus answered. "Oh, and Wormtail?" He added, pulling Peter back for a moment.

"What Remus?"

"Just keep in mind that if you loose him and he blows are cover, chances are you'll wish you had been Snape," Remus assured him. "Good night, Peter."

**Author's Note:** _Wow, could that actually be a plot orientated chapter? It might have been. Yes, it's finally starting to roll. Oh, and I hope that this got more into details about Snape— sorry if it didn't. And I had assumed (which I do far too often) that you'd figure Snape had already seen the Marauders and the initial shock of seeing them had already worn off. Sorry for those of you who didn't! Oh, and thanks for the reviews, guys!__ Cheers! — Loki_


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